


soul to soul, between you and me

by FireFlashMoon



Series: dust motes [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Set around mid season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-25 20:17:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFlashMoon/pseuds/FireFlashMoon
Summary: Jon stays a bit too late at the ArchivesMartin makes tea(Daemon AU, mid season 1)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: dust motes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540048
Comments: 6
Kudos: 138





	soul to soul, between you and me

**Author's Note:**

> Some soft season one shenanigans.  
Big shout out to my b vaguelyillegal on tumblr for beta-ing this for me, you're a star!!
> 
> Also, and idk why I didn’t do this to start with, the title is from David Byrne’s “Life is Long”

“Jon.”

Where was that file on Timothy Hodge? He swore it’d been there a second ago… no that was a statement he’d been able to record to the laptop – why was that still there? Maybe it was in the drawer...

“Jon!”

Oh, there was the report Sasha had made on Lawrence Mortimer, that should have been filed already-

“_Jon!_”

Jon looked up just in time for Neith to alight on his nose, her eyespots level with his own eyes, staring him down. Jon huffed a little and tried his best to look at his daemon without going too cross-eyed.

“Yes, Neith, what is it?” He asked, slightly harsher than intended.

“It’s quarter to eleven. What happened to leaving at six?” She replied flatly, winging away from his nose to land softly on his phone.

The light pressure of her feet was just enough for the phone’s screen to activate, lighting up to reveal his lock screen (a default one of a woodland path) and the large numbers announcing it to be 22:42.

“Ah yes, I did say I’d be done by then.” He leant forward over the files, attention once again on his work. “I’m not finished yet Neith, I still need to-“

“Jon,” Neith was not an expressive creature but her tone carried her exasperation clearly.

“Look, normally-” she sighed, her antennae twitching, “Normally I wouldn’t get on your case about this, Lord knows I want to find out as much about Prentiss as we can. But we can’t stay in document storage anymore, remember? We should probably get going.”

Jon sighed. He had meant to be finished for six, he really had. He preferred to leave the institute in the daylight hours these days, where he could know for sure if any worms were lurking about.

However, he’d got caught on a line of research from another recent statement, and the time had just completely run away from him.

“Fine, you’re right, I’ll just get myself sorted.” A more thorough tidy would end up trapping him in the Archives for at least another hour; he settled for putting away his scattered stationery and placing his active files back in their designated drawer.

* * *

Five minutes later - most of which had been spent searching for his favourite stapler, eventually found behind the monitor and placed safely back in its usual position - he was finished and retrieved his coat, bag and umbrella from the set of hooks near the frosted door.

Neith had flown to his left shoulder and was perched there comfortably, watching as Jon locked his office door and turned around into the communal office area.

The two of them jumped when they noticed the figure at one of the desks.

“_Oh, Christ_\- Martin?”

Martin was sitting at his desk, head pillowed in his arms next to two mugs full of something, probably tea. Korinna, his rabbit daemon, was curled up next to him, her ears twitching slightly in her sleep. Luckily, unlike the last time he had encountered Martin outside of usual institute hours, he was wearing some trousers.

In his sleep, Martin was frowning slightly. Jon felt a strange feeling around his middle at this, warm but utterly bewildering. He shook it off; he could dwell on what on Earth _that_ was later.

He walked over to his colleague and sighed, rubbing his face with mild irritation. Martin had told him in passing that he didn't get much sleep at the moment due to the constant barrage of worm dreams, so him falling asleep wherever made sense, he supposed. However, he couldn’t let Martin just sleep at the desk.

It was just unprofessional.

And the crick he was going to get in his neck would be horrible, as Jon knew from considerable experience.

He sighed again, then softly pushed at Martin’s shoulder.

“Martin?”

No response; Martin was deeply asleep. He leaned closer and called a little louder, giving a stronger shove than before.

“Martin? Mar-_Ack!_”

Martin’s eyes snapped open with a cry and he startled upwards, lashing out with his arm in his panic.

His elbow collided with Jon’s nose, who reeled back with a shout of pain. Korinna gave a squeak of surprise as the noise wrenched her back to consciousness.

“Oh my God, _Jon_? Oh _shit_, I am so, so sorry! Are you ok?”

“_No_,” Jon bit out, clutching at his nose and then pinching it as a trickle of dark red started seeping out between his fingers.

“O-oh no you’re bleeding! Uh w-wait right here, I’ll grab some tissues.” With that, Martin jumped to his feet and ran towards the bathrooms, Korinna hot on his heels.

Jon leant on the desk, staunching the tiny stream of blood with one hand and holding out the other so a slightly wobbly Neith could land on it.

“Are you alright Neith?”

“Mmhmm, just a bit stunned. It's fine Jon, I’m not hurt.” Jon nodded and gave a vaguely annoyed hum, looking in the direction Martin had left.

“It was an accident, Jon,” Neith snapped, somewhat sharply, as if she could hear what he was thinking. ”In fact, it's probably more _your_ fault, looming over him like that, no wonder he panicked.”

“Hmm.”

Before Neith could say anything more, Martin ran back in with some blue paper towels and offered them to Jon with an anxious, weak smile.

“Here you go! They’re not the best but there weren’t any proper tissues. Typical, right?" He gave an awkward laugh but then his face fell. "Uh, it isn't- it isn't broken, is it?”

“No,” Jon said, holding the paper to his nose carefully so as not to knock it, “Just bruised.”

Martin seemed to deflate slightly in relief.

“Oh, uh, good.” There was an uncomfortable silence as the two of them stared at each other. Martin smiled awkwardly while Jon’s expression stayed neutral, resulting in Martin’s face falling gradually.

“Sorry, again,” Martin said at length, scooping Korinna up into his arms.

“Yeah Jon, we’re really sorry. I hope it doesn't hurt too much?” Korinna said, ears twitching anxiously.

“It’s- it’s alright,” Jon said with a sigh, the anger from the pain draining away. He was too tired to properly maintain his annoyance. “I suppose I might’ve done the same in your position.”

“Probably,” Neith said cheerfully from where she was fluttering above his right ear. Jon scowled at her and she gave a cheeky midair dip before alighting on his head, nestling in his hair like some kind of ornate decoration.

Martin blushed slightly under the combined stare of the two of them then gave a nervous laugh and fidgeted a bit.

“I, uh, made you a cup of tea for before you left, but I thought you were going at six. I must’ve nodded off while waiting.” He said, smiling gingerly as he ran his hand through his daemon’s fur.

“I told him he should’ve waited a bit longer but he was insistent,” Korinna piped up, tugging at Martin’s jumper sleeve to move his hand to her head. Martin went faintly pink. Neith gave a soft chuckle which only Jon heard.

“Do you want one now? Before you go, I mean. I know it's quite late, so it’s okay if you don’t.” Martin cringed slightly, “Oh but of course you don’t, you’ll want to be getting home, nevermind me, I’ll just go wash these up-”

“Martin.” Martin looked up at Jon with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry, I was rambling a bit.”

“Yes. I could see that,” Jon said dryly. “I also never said no.”

Martin seemed to perk up slightly.

“O-oh, uh, yeah. I’ll, um, I’ll get on with that then. Uh..decaff?”

Jon shook his head.

“No, my normal tea should be fine, thank you.”

“Right!” Martin said with a smile, kneeling down to let Korinna jump down to the floor. “I’ll go and, uh, get those.” And again he left the room, this time much more relaxed and with a mug in each hand.

Jon sighed and shook his head, a tiny smile of tired exasperation forming at Martin’s enthusiasm, before following him through to the break room.

The kitchenette itself was in a separate smaller room with a tiny window off of the break room proper; through it, Neith and Jon could see Martin pottering around, Korinna nosing mugs or the tea caddy towards him in turn.

Jon shrugged off his coat and dropped it over the armrest before collapsing onto the sofa. His bag and umbrella were dumped unceremoniously on the floor next to it.

The last two days of solid work, combined with late finishes and increasingly early starts, seemed to catch up with him all in a rush and he let his head fall back against the sofa cushion. His nose had stopped bleeding by now, but he gingerly checked it before throwing the paper towels into the small bin next to the coffee table.

He sighed again, this time more from exhaustion than any strong emotion, and closed his eyes. He felt Neith staring at him and sighed.

“What is it Neith?”

“You should probably check the train times, see when the next ones are since we’re sticking around longer,” Neith said as she landed on his knee, folding her wings behind her. Jon hummed in agreement and brought up the timetable on his phone. He scrolled through it, noting which trains it was likely he’d be able to catch.

“I thought you’d be annoyed at the delay, you seemed eager for us to go home.”

Neith hummed and gave the moth equivalent of a shrug with a ruffle of her wings.

“It’s not like there aren’t later trains. The threat of Prentiss is there day or night so it doesn’t especially matter, I suppose. And besides, Martin offered to make you a cup of tea, it’s not like we would’ve said no.”

“It’s just a cup of tea, Neith. It’s not like I couldn’t have made it at home.”

“We both know that your tea-making skills leave something to be desired, Jon. But if you could just make it at home, why did you say yes?”

Jon scowled and looked away.

“Jon?”

“Oh, fine. I felt bad for wasting his time earlier with the tea,” He pressed his face into his hand mulishly, “and I might’ve felt-,” he huffed,”- a bit guilty about snapping at him for elbowing me. It was obviously an accident, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Oh shut up Neith.” Neith laughed.

“It’s also because he does amazing tea.”

“Not sure I’d say amazing-,” Jon muttered.

“_Jon._”

“Fine. It is- it’s alright tea, ok? It's, it's very good. Much, much better than mine for sure. There. Happy?”

Neith just gave a hum in response and Jon pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes beneath his glasses.

God, he was tired.

Neith had crawled up to sit on the front of his shirt, just on the lip of the breast pocket. She gave a soft sigh and Jon gently stroked a finger down her fluffy abdomen.

“I saw you talking to Korinna earlier, what luck are they having with the files we found on Prentiss?”

“Absolutely bugger all,” Neith sighed. “They looked promising but apparently there’s no new information in them, just things we were already aware of.” Neith paused, then looked up at Jon. “She’s, uh, also not doing too great? She’s keeping up appearances for Martin and everyone else but it’s been really getting to her.”

“Did she tell you this?”

“No. I didn’t ask either, it's not my business to pry into our coworkers’ heads. But she, well, she reminded me of myself.” Neith chuckled without humour, “Right after that damned book. It’s just a feeling I got from her. From the other statement givers’ daemons too. This...strange stuff, it just doesn’t interact well with us.”

* * *

The two of them were startled from their discussion by Martin returning, who placed the two mugs on the coasters that had been left on the coffee table.

He sat on the opposite end of the sofa to Jon, giving him decent space. He arranged himself to allow Korinna to leap up and lie comfortably on his legs, and picked up the slightly smaller mug - white with a watercolour lily design.

A relaxed silence persisted for a few moments, the two of them lost in thought and quietly sipping their tea.

At one point, Martin made a noise as if to speak but cut it off before it went anywhere.

At this point, Jon had quite given up on getting home that evening. It was no great loss, he supposed; a chance to get on with more work. And the sofa wasn’t that bad, he’d slept on it plenty as a researcher after a deep dive went on too long.

“Uh, Jon,” Martin broached haltingly. Jon looked at him and tilted his head.

“Yes, Martin?”

“I was just wondering how you were-uh, how you were holding up? Y’know with the whole, ha, worm thing?”

Jon sighed, rubbing his face, feeling even more tired.

“Not great Martin, I will admit. Seeing them around the institute has made the commute in even more unpleasant and hasn’t helped my inability to sleep one bit.” He laughed sharply. “Of course, I have little room to complain. I wasn’t trapped in my flat for two weeks by them.”

“She still threatened you directly!” Martin cut in indignantly, making Jon jump at the sudden ferocity on his behalf. “Of course you’re allowed to _complain_. I don’t have, like, a monopoly on worm fear or something, she’s a threat to all of us!”

“Th-that as may be, she hasn’t tried anything yet, so as it stands I am alright, for a given value of alright,” Jon said, leaning back into the soft old back cushion.

Martin sighed and scrubbed at his face with his free hand.

“I almost wish she’d just attack us already and get it over with, y’know?” He said with a dry chuckle, staring forlornly into his mug. “It's just the worry. I keep waking up all hours, convinced that a worm’s got past all our precautions and started to burrow into me. It's just- it’s just exhausting.”

“I can agree with you there.” Jon placed his mug onto the small coffee table and folded his hands a few times, not sure what to do with them. The companionable silence from before returned, the two of them lost in their own thoughts.

Jon was staring at his empty polka dot mug before he gave a decisive nod and got to his feet.

“Oh, are you, uh, off now? I hope I didn’t keep you too long,” Martin said, also standing up, rubbing the back of his head with a nervous smile. Jon shook his head.

“No, no I’m not. I feel it’s too late to leave the Institute safely at this point, so I’ll just stay here.”

Martin blinked in surprise.

“Oh. okay… uhm, where are you going to sleep? In here?”

Jon waved him away.

“I might have a nap here later but now that I’m staying, I might as well get on with some work.”

“Some work— Jon, it’s half eleven! You can’t be serious?”

Jon huffed.

“I am serious. And unlike _some_ people, I’m using my presence in the Archives to actually research our problems.” And with that, he left the breakroom.

Neith gave an explosive sigh and hurried after him, but not before Martin heard her mutter _Christ, Jon, way to ruin that_ as she flew past.

Martin shrank back onto the sofa with a deflated sigh. Korinna stood up and leant her paws on his chest.

“It’s ok Martin, you tried! I think that’s the friendliest he’s been so far,” Korinna laughed softly and nuzzled his chin. “Who knew lack of sleep would make him nicer? Well, at least for ten minutes I suppose.” Martin chuckled and ran his hands through her soft fur.

“Yeah,” He sighed, looking to the door that Jon had just left through. ”But isn’t he kind of right? I mean, we should probably be doing more research since we’re here.”

Korinna huffed and shook her head.

“Obviously the research is important Martin, I won’t argue against that, but it’s not worth ruining our health over. You need sleep and downtime from all this, otherwise you’d crack under the pressure. This is stressful stuff we’re dealing with!”

She gave another huff, “We both care about them, probably more than is sensible, but you know how unreasonable they can be! If Jon wants to run himself ragged until he and Neith collapse, let him. But he can sod off and leave you alone.”

“Korinna! There’s no need for that!” Martin hissed in shock. Korinna gave a giggle, her nose twitching with mischief. Martin huffed but then smiled at her, shaking his head.

He reached over to grab his phone from the coffee table and started to scroll through his emails.

He was tired, but the nap had given him some more energy, so he decided might as well do something slightly productive until he tired himself out again.

Korinna, not sharing this desire, curled up on his lap to continue her nap.

* * *

When Jon returned, Martin was slouched on the sofa, slowly scrolling through his phone and obviously beginning to nod. Korinna was fast asleep in his lap and he was running his free hand down her soft, spotted fur in a steady rhythm.

He looked up when he entered, confused at Jon’s return. Jon sighed and then sat down on the opposite end again.

“My office... my office was too quiet,” he said, not meeting Martin’s gaze. “I kept thinking I heard-" he cut himself off and sighed sharply, shaking his head. "Anyway, I can get on with my work just fine in here.” Neith, following behind him, sighed in fond exasperation and landed in his increasingly scruffy hair.

Martin nodded and then hid his fond smile behind his phone in case Jon looked his way.

Pulling out the most promising of the files, Jon began to peruse them. He occasionally made small comments to Neith, who provided a second opinion from her perch.

She moved down to the table at length, checking over some background info while Jon read the main body of the file.

Eventually though, Jon started slipping. The lack of sleep he’d had over the last week - nay - _month_, had returned swearing vengeance and he could barely keep his eyes open.

He shook his head and tried to refocus on his work, even though his eyes felt raw and scraped, like a whole desert’s worth of sleep dust had taken up residence.

He caught himself nearly nodding off twice and vowed that once he’d finished his current page, he’d go and see if he still had those caffeine pills in his desk drawer. He hated relying on them, but he’d need more than tea if he was going to get this done.

He just needed to finish this page...

* * *

Neith was busy looking at one of the pages Jon had brought with him when she heard a fluttering sound.

She looked over to the sofa and saw that Jon had finally succumbed to sleep, the last few pages falling out of his hands as he slouched further and further over until he was resting against Martin’s side.

Then, to Neith’s surprise and amusement, he grumbled in his sleep and shuffled over until he was properly pressed up against Martin, where he sighed and relaxed further.

Martin had looked up from his phone when Jon had dropped the pages but had not expected the man to fall into him and latch onto him like a secretly affectionate limpet. He had flushed red, his face competing with his auburn hair for brightness, almost dropping his phone.

“Uh, Jon? Jon? What are you doing?”

Jon didn't reply, having fully conked out.

Martin, still blushing furiously, just sat for a minute, baffled but elated, enjoying the comforting feeling of being hugged by the usually prickly Archivist.

Eventually, he began to try and extricate himself carefully from his grip. The fact that Jon was hugging him was incredible and made his heart flutter in his chest like an excited songbird, but he knew that Jon would be mortified if he woke up hugging him.

He didn't want Jon to pull away from him, not when their interactions over the last month or so had been so… well, _friendly_.

He would hate to be faced with the Jon from the start of the year again, with his disdainful glares and only barely concealed contempt. Jon was obviously still his acerbic self but had softened slightly since Martin had become a live-in resident in the Archives. 

Escaping the hug turned out to be harder than it seemed. Jon’s grip around Martin was like iron, and his slight arms were much stronger than they looked.

A few minutes later and with a very disgruntled daemon - his movements to get up had disturbed Korinna and she wasn't best pleased - he had escaped.

He gave a slightly forlorn sigh at the loss of contact, then grabbed Jon’s coat and draped it over his unconscious form.

He stared down at Jon’s sleeping face, the lines there face smoothed over slightly. Like this, deep in slumber, you could tell he wasn't anywhere near as old as he looked or acted. The hallmarks of stress didn't disappear but did fade somewhat, the creases from his constant frowning no longer as prominent.

Martin brushed a lock of hair that had fallen over Jon’s eye back with the others.

Jon gave a sleepy grumble, face creasing slightly into a tiny frown as he shuffled into a more comfortable position. Martin tried to fight the soppy smile he knew had made its way onto his face but it was a lost battle almost instantly.

He gave a soft laugh, scooping up a bleary Korinna as he did so.

“Goodnight Martin, Korinna.”

Martin almost jumped a foot in the air, his heart slowing when he saw Neith land on Jon’s arm, shuffling into a position comfortable to sleep. He’d completely forgotten she had been there. There was an amused, almost teasing note to her voice; she had obviously seen the whole thing.

“Ah, um yes, goodnight Neith!” Martin blushed. “Could you, uh, not tell Jon about-” he gestured vaguely to the sofa where the man in question was sprawled, “-that.”

Neith laughed.

“Of course Martin, he won’t hear a peep.”

“Thanks.” Neith hummed, then shut her eyes.

Korinna fidgetted in his arms, reminding Martin to get going so they could go to bed. The two of them made their way to the door. Martin paused on the threshold, looking back at Jon one more time, smiling softly.

“Goodnight Jon. Pleasant dreams.”

And when Martin went to sleep that night, his dreams were noticeably worm free.

**Author's Note:**

> So it took a bit but I got another story for this AU done! Yay!  
Since it's not mentioned in the story proper, Jon's daemon Neith is a small emperor moth and Martin's daemon Korinna is a (chocolate) English Spot rabbit.  
I'm very inspired for this AU right now so there's deffo more where this came from-  
I'm on tumblr at dewdropstar and twitter at dewdropstar_ if you want to come and yell at me about tma, daemons or both at the same time!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [lost (and found and found and found again)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456598) by [Marianne_Dashwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marianne_Dashwood/pseuds/Marianne_Dashwood)


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